I'm trembling without meaning to
The light that the storm gives
I hear murmurs and footsteps
Behind the painting on the wall
Its shades keep fading
And there's nobody left in it
Like a passionate sprite
That ties my feet and hands
Love with a taste of life
Hidden face of the lie
I search anxiously in the painting
And it's hanging on the wall
But I know that I didn't dream it
There are traces of passion
The spell will come again
Like a passionate sprite
That ties my feet and hands
Love with a taste of life
Hidden face of the lie
Like a passionate sprite
That ties my feet and hands
Love with a taste of life
Hidden face of the lie
Like a passionate sprite
That ties my feet and hands
Love with a taste of life
Hidden face of the lie
Like a passionate sprite